In Need of Eachother
by Ally N. S
Summary: A teacher, maimed in a car accident, is now shunned from society by all. Desperately needing to feel accepted, could a girl in need of a friend in a new, unframiliar town be the angel he has prayed for? A must read for POTO Phans!
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: Most chapters following this one will be much longer in length, but this is just to give everyone a taste of what the story will be like...enjoy and let me know what you think!_

**Into the Unknown**:

_**Why are we here? This is SO STUPID! Why would any girl want to spend her summer in a place like this, with her grandparents? **_

Unfortunately for me, that question had never crossed my parent's mind as they packed me up and sent me off to live with my grandparents in New Hampshire. They hadn't even had the courtesy to go with me to the airport to make sure I got onto my plane and in the air safely. As I rode away in a rusty blue Buick that served as my taxi, they waved to me with mock happiness. I could do nothing but continue to watch them miserably out of the back window.

I had looked upon the beauty and serenity of our magnificent Californian vineyard for the last time in my life. I would miss it all: the smell of the grapes, the way the sun shone through my window each and every morning rousing me gently out of a deep slumber, the sound of the rain drizzling off of each leaf on the vines as the grapes soaked in the surrounding scents and tastes, and everything else that was connected with the life my parents and I once shared serenely in California.

**_Who are you kidding? Your life is going nowhere and your past is as dead as the history in your school textbooks! _** It was true, my parents were divorcing and separating miles apart. My father escaping to his hometown in Michigan and my mother fleeing back to her roots in New York, abandoning our vineyard completely, as if it were a sullen wasteland of death and decay when the only death that our family had suffered was the death of my parent's love for each other, and with it the death of any hope I had at a future. I had never been particularly great in school, math frustrated me, history bored me, and science seemed all too literal. No, the only subject that was even remotely tolerable for me, was English, but what future could I have in English, when my family was known for it's remarkable scholars, doctors and lawyers?

The vineyard had simply been a hobby for our family, never a necessity, but what they didn't understand was that for me, it was **_life_**. I needed the vineyard like an artist needs paint, or a canvas. Within my misfit and dull day to day life, I only found one small joy in my spare time after school and that was my writing. I would get home, park the car, and run. I would run though the maze of wooden supports, vines and grapes, past the barn where barrels of grapes were kept and beyond, to where the coast met our property. There I had the most magnificent view of the ocean laid out before me. No one could ever imagine such an inspirational scene. Every time I escaped to 'my paradise', I drank in the beauty, the colors, and the vastness of the aqua water. I drew all its power, majesty and beauty away, through my eyes, down through my heart and out at the tip of my pen, each time composing something that truly made me feel as if, 'yes, I could do something with my life!' But now, all I saw out of the car window was one bland oak tree after another. The monotony of it all became too much and I had to close my eyes. **_Where was the beauty in this place?_**

My parents had to 'hammer out the details' of their divorce and so they thought it would be best if I went ahead to Michigan with my father's parents. I fought with them many times over it, telling them that I did not wish to leave, and that I needed to be at home with the vineyard and the sea. But they would not hear about it, telling me that I had to get used to calling another place home. So I was packed up with boxes and packing peanuts, like a china plate, and shipped off to be set on some shelf to collect dust, never to show my true beauty again. My grandparents had picked me up from the airport, their faces bright with excitement. I felt slightly guilty that they had to see my gloomy mug as apposed to that of a normal and joyful teenage girl. I remained silent through most of the ride, ignoring any and all questions directed at me.

I was miserably depressed by the time we reached the house of my grandparents. Tree after tree surrounded me as I got out of the vehicle and I felt confined almost as if this place was a prison and the trees were the iron bars, caging me like a wild tiger in a circus. I fought the urge to cry out in frustration at this lack of control I had over my own life as my grandparents showed me around, pointing out the attached house which was to be mine along with my father's. **_Great! I get to live in a house attached to my grandparent's house…_** All thoughts turned sarcastic in the blink of an eye as I had to smile and pretend like I appreciated what they were doing for me, all the while nearly gagging on each forced 'thank you'. Absently, I noted smoke coming from deep within the woods that enclosed us all.

"Where is that smoke coming from…?" I asked inattentively.

"Oh, Issy…that is simply….well…there is a house deeper within the forest, but do not go searching for it…the man who lives there…well, he is said to be the son of Satan himself…do not go near there if you value your life……" My grandfather whispered mysteriously.

"Oh come now, John, you know he is no devil, although he is a dangerous man, convicted of many unspeakable crimes…simply watch yourself my dear and all will be well! So, that having been said, why don't we go inside and I will pull out a tin of my chocolate chip cookies…I baked them just yesterday morning!"

I followed her in silently, but I could not tear my eyes away from the grey smoke billowing up from a chimney somewhere amongst the trees.


	2. Woman, Devil and Beast

_**Woman, Devil and Beast**_

Time past slowly in the dull city of Cadillac. It was summer but it did not feel like it by any means. I found small insignificant tasks to keep myself occupied. I spent a great deal of my time decorating our house for when my father made it home. I had to make a few trips into downtown Cadillac to get paint and other such necessities for the house. Downtown Cadillac was on a lake, but the view was nothing compared to that of my Californian paradise and each time I looked out over the water, I could see just how grey it truly was compared to that crystal aqua ocean. Each time I went downtown, I ran into a group of teenage guys who always tried to start a conversation with me, but I avoided them to the best of my ability. Unfortunately, one day, they followed me into the hardware store as I was picking up some paint brushes. I wanted nothing to do with these strange, red-neck kids, and so I smiled at them as they asked me questions and continued on through the hardware store.

"Hey! I hear you moved in over by the devil recluse's house!"

"Excuse me?" I asked somewhat offended by that remark, even though I had no idea what they meant by it.

"Mr. McLeod! The troll that lives deep within the woods…the murderer!"

"Murderer?" **_They are talking about the guy in the house that I saw smoke coming from_**.

"Yeah, didn't anyone tell you? He had to leave his old home in Maine…he murdered a boy he was tutoring and went to jail for it for four years….he got out and seven years later molested another boy…and so they told him to get out!"

Another guy chimed in, "They wouldn't just tell someone to leave if they _MOLESTED _a kid!"

"That's just what I heard," they argued with each other.

"I'm sure there is a good explanation as to what happened to him….but if you'll excuse me I must be going…I have work to do."

"Hey…why don't you come with us…we could hang out or…show you where the monster's house is…come on…its not everyday that we get a new neighbor in this town."

"I wonder why…" I said sarcastically.

"Come on! You can finish your painting anytime…" He said, motioning to my paintbrushes.

"I don't think so, boys…sorry…" I paid for my stuff and left them standing in my wake.

"At least tell us if you're single then!" One yelled at my back but I ignored him and got into the car and drove home. I knew that's all they wanted. I was fresh meat to them, because I was a new female in their territory, and I wasn't too bad looking, or so I had been told back in California. I looked in the rear view mirror and brushed a lock of chestnut colored hair out of my face as I drove down the road casually.

It didn't take long for me to get home and I immediately went to work. I had painted my bedroom and my father's already, and there was another room that I had just begun as my 'special project'. There was a small room that ran off of my bedroom, and I knew exactly what I wanted to do with that room. On one wall, I had already begun my work. Shelf upon shelf upon shelf lined the wall, all the way to the ceiling, all were empty but wouldn't be for long. I had boxes of books lying on the floor in my bedroom and those would soon give this room some life. However, books alone did not make my library the magnificent room it was. No, it was exquisite because of something completely different. I had begun a mural on the wall opposite the shelves and I was astonished at how well my work had turned out.

I had painted scene after scene onto the wall, using intense colors and relaxed brush strokes. Each object on the wall mixed with others to recreate scenes from my favorite novels. All the character's bleeded into the a scene from a different novel, causing the illusion of one huge masquerade ball of famous characters. Angels, horses, and humans all dances together across my tableaux, representing my ideas of happiness and beauty. I must admit that that I didn't think I would be inspired enough to create any art again, whether it be with words or paint, but somehow when I began painting, the images came to me, in one whirlwind of motivation after another.

I continued painting the scenes serenely until my thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of a yelping animal. I quickly set the paint down and flew outside, to see what was the matter. My grandparents came out of the house at the same time. All of us at a brisk walk.

I was the first to see what was happening. The group of boys from downtown were throwing rocks at a German Shepard and when he whirled around to defend himself they kicked at him, occasionally hitting him in the ribs. I looked at my grandparents and to my astonishment, they looked at me then turned around and headed back towards the house.

"What are you doing? Those boys are abusing that poor dog!"

"That animal is no dog…it's the devil's wolf.." my grandfather said and then they continued toward the house.

I looked back and saw the poor animal stagger as he began to lose his strength. I turned around furiously and marched over to where the four boys surrounded the dog.

"What in God's name do you think you are doing!"

"It's the monster's wolf…he was roaming around and we decided to teach him and his master a lesson about living amongst us…they are unwanted by all!"

NO! YOU are unwanted and YOU are the monsters! If you do not get the hell out of my sight right now, I swear to god that you will regret how you treated this animal!"

They looked as if they were going to try my patience for a moment, but then thought better of it and walked back towards town. I glared at them until they were out of my sight and then I turned my attention to the poor animal laying on the ground at my feet. I kneeled down next to it and placed my hand on it's hand. It bared it's teeth at me halfheartedly but was too tired to actually lash out.

"It's ok boy…it's ok…good boy…" I said stroking his head. His great brown eyes met mine and he let out a pitiful whimper. My heart dropped to me feet at the sadness in that sound. I rolled him over onto his side, receiving only one painful yip in response. It was then that I saw one of the stones must have broken a bone in his front paw.

"Good boy! Stay boy…stay…" I said to him before I ran inside to grab a piece of wood, a dozen rolls of gauze and a few old towels. He was still where I left him when I got back and I set right to work on his paw. I felt the broken bone tenderly with my fingers and knew that I would have to set it. If I did not, he wouldn't be able to use it again. I closed my eyes and muttered one more good boy before I snapped his paw back into place. He howled out of pain but I quickly began stroking his golden coat, using my most calming voice to praise him as I did so. I then took the wood and lined his leg up against it and wrapped it in gauze again and again until served as a firm splint.

I thought about finding a wheelbarrow and taking him back up to his owner's house, but then decided that it would be too painful for him and he would be better off inside. I used the towels as a stretcher and carried him inside our house and laid him down on the floor in my room. I gathered all the blankets I could find and piled them up so that he would be comfortable. I laid him on the makeshift dog bed and he licked my hand. I smiled and told him he was a good boy, before I went to the kitchen and filled one Tupperware container with water and another with slices of lunchmeat that I took from a package in the refrigerator. I brought him the food and water and he ate it happily before falling asleep.

I took a deep breath and went outside, locking the door behind me so that no one could disturb him while I was gone. I crept quietly past the windows of my grandparent's house and made my way into the woods. The sky was growing dark and I realized that I must have been painting for many hours to have it be this late in the day already. I could only hope that the man everyone seemed to believe was evil would only be a nice old misunderstood man. I had no desire to tell a murderer and child molester that his dog was abused by a group of teenagers and now I had him sleeping in my home.

I picked up my pace, walking a little faster, hoping to beat the setting sun. Another thing I had no desire to do was to be out in these woods, alone after dark, not knowing who could be lurking behind the trees. As I traveled deeper and deeper into the woods, everything seemed less like the prison I imagined it to be. Nature had a different beauty far away from any man-made structure and that became more obvious the farther I walked. Finally, I saw the silhouette of a somewhat large building in front of me. **_This MUST be his house!_** I thought, astonished that a house could exist so far away from all others. I continued towards it, my heart beating faster with every step I took, until I stopped at the sound of a voice in the distance.

"Mickey? Mickey! Mickey? Here, boy! Mickey?" I held my breath and turned towards where the man's voice was coming from, walking in that direction instead. It took a few minutes but I finally was close enough to see the outline of a man standing a few yards away, calling for his dog. I heard him mumble softly, "Oh god…what has happened to him?"

I stepped out from behind a tree and cleared my throat. I saw the man become rigidly still for a moment before he turned to face me. Almost all light was gone now, and the only light we had was from the moon and the flashlight he held in his hand. I could not see his face, nor any other feature, but I was slightly glad for it. I didn't want to have to see how he was looking at me, if his expression was angry, or surprised…or otherwise.

"What do you want?" He asked stiffly after a very long moment of silence.

"Sir, I…uh…I am Isabelle and…well…I had nothing to do with it, I swear it….but…there were these boys…and a dog…and well, I…" My heart was in my throat, as I attempted to tell him what I knew.

"Whatever it is you are here to say, say it…" His voice was bitter, but I could hear slight distress behind his words and hearing the emotion behind his words made me feel as if, perhaps he _was _just a misunderstood man.

"I caught these boys kicking and throwing rocks at your poor dog…and well…"

"What!" he stepped closer to me, his flashlight falling out of his hands as he grabbed my shoulders, "Mickey? Is he harmed? Tell me that he is not dead."

I was petrified at the sudden contact between us, but hearing anxiety take over the anger in his voice made me realize that if I was in the same situation, I would be just as distraught.

"No, he is alive. I drove off the boys and took care of your dog. Unfortunately though, a stone must have broken his paw…I put a splint on it and took him inside my house…he is sleeping there on a pile of my blankets with food and water beside him." His hand suddenly dropped from my shoulder and I received a silent response. I continued uneasily, "I was going to bring him to you but, he is heavy and I had no idea how far your house was…and so I thought it would be best if I came to tell you so you could come for him…or at least not worry until we could figure out how to get him home to you…I'm sorry if I have done something wrong…but…I was only trying to help." I finished lamely.

"Why have you really come here?" He asked, anger once again fringing upon his words.

"I am telling you the truth, Sir. Your dog is injured and in my home. I thought you'd want to know…"

"I do not believe you! No one in their right mind would take care of Mickey because he belongs to **me**…Everyone knows that the 'devil' lives out in these woods with his monster wolf…" his sarcasm stung in a way I couldn't explain.

"I just moved here from California, Sir. I have heard of those rumors, but I like to make my own mind up about such things…and so I came to find you"

He sighed. "You are completely serious about my dog?" His voice was becoming somewhat kind as emotional fatigue set in.

"Yes, Sir…I am."

"So, if I may ask, what _is _the current gossip about me?" His voice was suddenly hollow. I froze and couldn't seem to open my mouth. "I promise you, you are safe, regardless of your answer… simply tell me the truth, that is all I want to know…"

"They say you are a murderer and a child molester…" I said in one rushed sentence.

"I've heard worse…" He mumbled.

"So…are you?" I asked uneasily after a moment of silence.

"You have no right to ask me such things!" he snapped suddenly.

I jumped. "I know and I apologize… but if I am going to take you to my home so you can retrieve your dog, I would like to know the truth about whether you are a danger to me or not…"

"And why would you take my word for it?"

"I don't know…I would rather hear your side of the rumors about you…"

"And how do I know you aren't luring me towards a trap, where you and your friends can play a prank on me or something…?"

"I have no friends here…these people are superstitious and irrational…Sir, no one knows your dog is in my house. You wont be bothered, as long as we do not wake my grandparents…"

"I cannot walk into a home of sleeping people…unannounced…I am no teenager…I could get arrested for such a thing…" He was very wary of me and I could hear it in each hesitant word spoken between us.

"They do not live in my house. My father will be arriving soon from California but until then, I live alone in the house next to my grandparent's. Don't worry, the houses are separated…"

"Alright, I suppose I have no choice…and must trust you…"

"So…who are you then, Sir?"

"If it will put your mind at ease, I will tell you… I was convicted of involuntary man-slaughter…I trust you understand what that means?"

"I am not stupid, Sir…yes…how did it happen?"

"A car crash…I was his tutor…"

"Oh, I'm sorry" I said, genuinely feeling the sorrow radiating from him. "…and forgive me, but the molestation accusation, what about that?"

"I was tutoring another boy who came from a troubled family. There were certain…circumstances that lead the authorities to be bias towards me and so they looked for any excuse to get rid of me. I never laid a hand of anything but friendship on him…The boy even confirmed it… but it doesn't matter…my innocence never mattered to them and I am not allowed to see him again…"

I heard his tone become drenched in sadness and knew that no matter what everyone else said, this man was human and suffered as does any other creature, though why they thought so horribly of him, I could not imagine. "Then why is everyone so frightened of you?"

"Never mind that…"

I thought about pressing the question from another angle but then decided against it. "Shall we go, then?"

"Yes…"

We walked back through the woods, him following slightly behind me. I felt more comfortable now, knowing that he wasn't as horrible as everyone else thought, or at least, if he was, he was acting normal now. We walked in silence the rest of the way, until we reached the edge of our property.

"Shh…we don't want them to wake up…they are…well……they would flip if they saw you with me…"

"Alright…lead the way…"

I crept quietly past their windows once again, this time keenly aware of the extra pair of footsteps following my own. I let the breath I had held in out as I unlocked the door. We both walked inside and I excused myself to turn on the lights.

"No! Wait!" he said, somewhat anxiously.

"What's wrong?" I asked, surprised by his sudden outburst.

"Maybe it's best if there is no light…"

"What are you talking about?"

He was clearly struggling with some internal conflict. Finally he gave in. "…in the car accident I told you about…I was burned badly and, well…"

"And?"

"I think it would be best if you didn't see me…not now, nor ever again…I can simply take Mickey and go…"

"No! I don't want you to hide from me! You know about me, but I know next to nothing about you… I've taken care of your dog, so I think you can at least trust me enough to speak with me for awhile…and not in a pitch black house…"

"But I have to warn you, most are frightened by it…If you scream, your grandparents would hear…and…"

"I promise, I wont flip out…" I said, laughing slightly.

"That's a hard promise to make and keep, especially when you are facing the unknown…"

"Trust me, just this once, and if I fail you, I will never bother you again…"

"Fine, if you insist…I trust you."

I turned on the light and then faced the man. My eyes locked with his and I saw the dread deep within them. I held his gaze for a moment before I actually looked at his face. I held in the gasp of shock that threatened to escape my lips, not wanting to offend him and his great leap of confidence.

The right side of his face was made up of huge searing scars, and patches of whitened skin spread across his face as if he had been a wax doll, placed near a flame. His entire right side was a mangled mess of scar tissue and flesh which stood out in stark contrast to his handsome right side. His half mangled nose was the separating line, and I could not help but stare for a moment longer before I snapped out of my stupor. Instead of dwelling on his deformity, I studied his 'better half' for a moment. I decided that he had once been quite a handsome man, with eyes the shade of a bright summer sky and his hair was a dark brown that was nearly black. From what his good side hinted. I placed him as being around the age of fifty.

Noticing him still staring at me, waiting for a readable reaction, I quickly changed the subject. "Shall I show you where Mickey is?" I made to walk to my bedroom, but his hand on my arm stopped me.

"How did you do that?" He asked, breathlessly.

"Dh what?" I said, pretending not to know what he meant.

"Look at me like that…as if I were the same as anyone else?" **_So, apparently I _didn't _show any of the emotions that I had felt while looking at his face._** That was a good thing in my mind.

"You **are **the same as everyone else…and you need to start thinking like that as well…Sir!" I added, suddenly remembering propriety.

"Oh, I nearly forgot…please…You may call me Justin, or Mr. McLeod if you wish…" He said, a smile suddenly brightening his features. I stared for a moment, noting the difference in him when he smiled. He became another person entirely and I could only smile back.

I nodded and continued into my bedroom, where Mickey was sleeping. When he heard us coming, he picked up his head and looked first at me then at Mr. McLeod. His tail began to wag furiously and he whimpered while trying to get up.

"No, boy! Stay!" Mr. McLeod said, his low voice receiving instant obedience from Mickey.

I watched as Mr. McLeod knelt down next to his dog, checking his paw over and looking at the rest of the dog with great concentration. Finally, after a few moments of searching for any other injuries, he stood up and turned to face me.

"I cannot thank you enough for doing this for Mickey and I…Those boys could have really injured him and I cannot help but notice that if you hadn't disregarded everyone else's opinions of me, he may have been killed or at least seriously injured…"

"Well, I only did what any one **should have **done…"

"But given the situation you acted very responsibly," he said, looking at me thankfully.

"Thank you, Sir…" I said, genuinely touched at such a compliment. "Would you like some tea or something…you may have a seat on the chair there, if you wish." I said, motioning to the overstuffed chair in the corner of my room.

"Yes, please…" he said in a tentative voice.

I went to the kitchen and heated up two mugs of hot water in the microwave and took two tea bags out from the cupboard above the sink, placing them in the steaming water, when it was done. I carried both mugs into my room, but found that he was not sitting in the chair any longer. I set the cups down on my computer desk and opened the door to my 'work-in-progress' library. There, I found him studying my paintings on the wall. I rushed in and quickly began attempting to hurry him out of the room.

"No no…you don't want to waste your time in here…come on, I was only doodling on the walls…there's nothing to see in here…" I said anxiously. **_My work is not good enough to be seen by anyone, let alone a man I just met!_**

"Are you mad? These are phenomenal…" he said, inspecting each and every character painted on the wall.

"No, really…no need to be polite…it's just something to make the room more interesting."

He then turned his attention to the opposite wall, his eyes following the shelves all the way up to the ceiling. "Is your library for the family?"

"Oh, no! It's for my books…I can never seem to find enough room for them all, and so I decided that they needed a room of their own…"

"And have you read all the books that are to fill these shelves?"

"Most of them..." I said truthfully.

"Impressive…"

"No no…"

"Stop selling yourself short, Miss Isabelle…You have talent…and passion"

"Oh, well…I don't think of painting or reading as my true passion…"

"No? Than what is?"

"I…really enjoy writing…stories, and poems…mostly…" I said hesitantly.

"Oh really? How long have you been writing for?"

"Ever since I can remember I guess…But it never mattered…my family is known for being lawyers and doctors…my parents would never let me study any of the arts…"

"That's a terrible shame and a waste of your skills, if you ask me…You would do well in college for such a subject, unless you do not wish to attend college."

"Oh! I would love to go to college for writing or something similar…but I know I wont, so what's the use of trying, right?"

"NO! No! Don't say that! Never quit writing if it is your passion…you may be able to succeed in writing eventually, regardless of what your parents say…and practice will only increase your skills…" His voice was calming and compassionate. It seemed as if he truly loved talking about my life and dreams.

"What do _you _do, Mr. McLeod?" I asked him conversationally.

"Well, I was a teacher…but was fired because of the accident…but I make my money in the art business…I create covers for magazines using my paintings…I also write novels…"

"Really? That's awesome…A true author AND artist! Right next door!"

"Yes, well…" he said, looking away, back towards the bedroom. "Perhaps Mickey and I better be going…" He looked back at my mural. "With a bit of schooling you could be famous, especially with talent like yours…"

"Well, an artist can always use a few pointers, in writing or painting for that matter…would you like to come around tomorrow and help me finish this thing?" I asked, motioning to the wall.

"Oh, no…this is your work…you do not need my help."

"No, I insist…I would love to have the professional opinion of someone like you…a critic in a way…It would be fun…"

"Listen, I appreciate your kindness, more than you may know, but I do not think that's such a great idea."

"Why not?"

"If I were caught alone with you…people may create a fuss…Since I first arrived they were already…**_weary_**… of me."

"They would harass you, simply because you are different?" I asked, being careful not to say the word 'deformed'.

"Harass would be an understatement…"

I gasped slightly at the sadness in that thought. "But you could teach me well" I ignored his cringing at the words 'teach' and continued, " …You said so yourself, that I could be famous with a bit of schooling…I think you would be the perfect remedy for that…you could tutor me…"

"No!" His eyes grew suddenly wide, "I could never teach again…not after what has happened the last two times…"

"But this is different…I am technically old enough to run my own life…and I say I do not care about your past and I want to hire you as my tutor…"

"And if I, personally, refuse your offer?"

"I will show up at your house with paint and a canvas or pen and paper each and everyday and sit outside until you finally give in…"

"I'll say this much…you have spirit."

"So…?"

"Alright…I will be here tomorrow around noon…tell no one…"

"Deal…what shall I pay you…?"

"We will not worry about that until much later…"

"Alright…Tomorrow then…and take care of Mickey…If you guys need anything…"

"Yes, I will let you know…our thanks…"

"Your very welcome. Goodnight!"

"Goodnight!"


End file.
